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Continuing to Save Sight in 2010

Blog submitted by Rebecca Saxton-Fox

Rebecca is the Flying Eye Hospital Administrator and has been with ORBIS since 2007.

Every Monday evening during Flying Eye Hospital programs, we meet as a team to discuss the day. This past Monday was one of the first times I was really excited to get into that room – I wanted to see the surgery list for the week. When Amelia, Flying Eye Hospital program manager, informed me that Moussa, a man I had met on Saturday, was had been scheduled for surgery onboard the Flying Eye Hospital, I was thrilled.

As the Administrator onboard the Flying Eye Hospital, I rarely get to follow a patient from screening through surgery, as I am often running around and not directly involved in patient care. However, on Saturday, I was fortunate enough to be able to join my colleagues during a rural screening outreach, set up by Perry Athanason, our communications manager. About 15 of us drove out to Libore, just outside of Niamey, to a school where about 400 people were waiting to have their eyes checked. These people were pre-identified by the leaders of their villages as having eye problems, and brought to this screening. The number of people there seemed pretty overwhelming, and we quickly set up our stations – we had our work cut out for us!

I found my place as one of the “hall monitors”, walking patients from room to room, trying to navigate my way through up to 4 languages (English, French, Zarma and Housa), and ophthalmology terms I was unfamiliar with. One of my favorite moments during the day was passing out sunglasses to little old ladies who had never worn glasses before. Heather, our nursing director, was instrumental in ensuring each lady received a pair that fit her face and matched her clothes!

By the afternoon, the majority of our patients were men. At that point, I had moved from the hall into the scheduling room, making sure that all patients who needed surgery or follow-up care were scheduled to either come in for one of our follow-up hospital based programs, or were scheduled to go to the National Hospital of Niamey to be seen by the local ophthalmologists who are receiving training during our program.

One man came in with “extremely high pressure” written across his sheet. I learned from the ophthalmologists who had examined him that he had gone blind in his left eye several weeks prior due to glaucoma (a disease where improper drainage of fluid in the eye leads to increased pressure in the eye, damaging the optic nerve). His right eye was a few weeks away from blindness as well.  I knew what that meant – he needed to come in to the hospital on Monday to be seen by our team. The man, Moussa, needed an emergency trabeculectomy – a surgery that helps to reduce the pressure build up in the eye – combined with a phacoemulsification surgery to remove the cataract that was blurring his vision even more.

“This is the only chance he has for this surgery. If he doesn’t come in on Monday, he will go blind soon,” said Amelia, citing the fact that with only 13 ophthalmologists in the whole country, and very limited resources, eye care in rural areas of Niger is almost non-existent.

I immediately left the room to find translators. I sat with him for a while, walking several different translators over to him to explain the importance of his appointment on Monday, and making sure he had a way of getting to the hospital in Niamey. I was afraid that with the information switching from English to French to Zarma, the unfamiliar faces, and the general apprehension that people have around doctors that the message would not get across. When he walked out, I was afraid we would never see him again.

Sitting from my back office aboard the Flying Eye Hospital, I can see into the room where Moussa is currently getting prepped for surgery. As in all of our cases, he will be operated on by one of our volunteer doctors, along with 2 local doctors from Niger. This way, when we fly out, the local doctors will have better capability to deal with cases like Moussa’s.

I’m overwhelmed and grateful for all of the hard work and time that our whole team, as well as dozens of volunteer translators and organizers from Niger has put into ensuring Moussa and the additional 400 or so people we screened on Saturday get the care they deserve.  Although I know that Moussa will never get his full vision back, he will likely be able to see better in just a few weeks, and will not have to live the rest of his life in blindness.

Photo by Rebecca Saxton-Fox

A Lesson in Indian Hospitality

Blog submitted by Sasha Vohlidkova

Sasha is a student from ACS Egham International School, through ORBIS' partnership with ACS Sasha was selected to participate in an internship that allows students to take part in an ORBIS program overseas.

Before I went to India, everyone, especially those who have never been near it, had endless advice for me: don’t drink the water, don’t leave your belongings unattended, only carry a photocopy of your passport with you, only go out in groups, do not talk to people in the streets... Along with the overload of reductionist clichés often used to describe the Indian reality, “the third world”, “developing country”, the picture I got of India was one of an incredibly interesting country, but not so much a pleasant one for a visitor.

As soon as we landed in Jaipur at 2.30am, Friday 18^th September, and basically wherever the team came to visit after, a team from ORBIS India or ORBIS’ partners in India was awaiting us with bindis, flower garlands, and the warmest welcomes I’ve received in a long time.

During the ORBIS outreach program in Amber, near Jaipur, I approached a local elderly woman who had come to get her eyes checked at the yearly eye camp. After a couple of minutes of conversation that neither of us knew what was about as she spoke Hindi and I, English, one of the doctors translated for me: “She says you’re very nice and wants you to come to her home.”

Walking along the streets surrounding our hotel around midnight, a man invited us, unknown foreigners, to join a small wedding, the happiest day of his brother’s life. When we replied that we would rather just watch, he briefly asked us how we liked India and directed us to the side of the street where we would have the best view of the celebration.

The evening before our last day, I left my phone in a tuk-tuk and only realized it after the driver had left. Almost immediately, twenty members of the airport staff were trying to help me, offering to get me a taxi, asking where I wanted to go. I said I didn’t know how this country worked and wanted them to tell me what to do. In the following fifteen long minutes, another tuk-tuk driver managed to contact the first one, locate my phone, and get us a taxi back where we came from to pick it up. As we were getting into the car, he smiled and said, “You wanted to know, so this is how this country works.”

And all you can do is look only fifteen minutes back, and all those other times before, when you were anxiously watching your backpack when locals were spending their time, money, in efforts to help a lost stranger. And again, your western superiority hits you over the head with a surprising force, and you shift a tiny bit further away from it. Because you realize this really is how this country works. Except no one tells you that.